


Eve

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Invasion, Jealous Sherlock, Kitten, M/M, Sherlock Is Horny, Sherlock pouts, What the internet is for: Porn and Kittens, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-27 14:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is still not entirely confident in his ability to be able to keep John happy. When someone new is introduced into the relationship, Sherlock doesn't want to end up the one left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sherlock Pouts

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. We've got a back catalogue of 100 stories, so feel free to get lost within them. In 2016, we'll be slowing the pace a little, but we hope we've got enough to keep you entertained in between postings. **We hope you'll subscribe.**
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments. They mean a lot -- sometimes they inspire new ideas and works, sometimes they just make us feel all warm inside. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and liking and being a great community!

"Sometimes I think he just likes to hear himself talk," Greg muttered, looking down at his messy notes. "I need a bloody recorder."

John grinned. "You know he likes to be detailed." He heard Sherlock call out for him to hurry up, but he ignored him. "A recorder isn't a bad idea. I should get one for the flat -- maybe I'll play his own whinging back at him for revenge." 

Greg grinned and put away his notebook. "Now I just have to find out what to do with that little guy." 

John looked to where he was pointing and saw the small cat peeking through the mesh of a carrier. "He needs a place to stay?"

"Just until the owner arrives -- the killer's girlfriend was out of town, quite shocked when we called her obviously," he said. 

"Yeah, I bet." John looked up just in time to watch Sherlock get into a taxi alone and leave John behind. John looked back at Greg. "I'll take him if you give me a ride back."

"Seriously?" he asked, glancing to the spot the taxi just disappeared from. John nodded and Greg agreed, taking the carrier to the car while John got into the front seat. "Forget the recorder--get a camcorder so I can enjoy as well," Greg laughed. 

John grinned as they left the scene. When they arrived, John took the carrier and headed up to the flat, not mentioning it at all. He double checked nothing poisonous was out, and he opened the cage door to let the cat out. 

Sherlock came out of the bathroom, determined to put in a good fifteen minutes of pouting. He moved to the kitchen and put the kettle on. "We're been working together a long time, John," he said. "We ride back together, I stare out the window, you tell me I'm amazing -- it's a system that works, I'm disappointed that you chose to disrespect that."

John rolled his eyes and mumbled to the cat about how cute it was, following behind it as it moved around sniffing all of the furniture. 

"Don't ignore me, John Watson," Sherlock said as he poured the tea. "Tell me I'm amazing or you'll get no tea."

"I don't care," he said, watching the cat sniff Sherlock's chair. He lingered there longer. 

"John!" Sherlock shouted. "Why aren't you paying attention to me?"

"Sherlock, shut up," he laughed. The kitten jumped up on Sherlock's chair and curled up, purring softly. John moved over to his own chair to sit and watch him sleep.

This was unacceptable to Sherlock. He moved into the sitting room, ready to go into full pout mode when he noticed something on his chair.

"What is that?" he asked loudly.

"Hmm, that is Tic Tac," John smiled.

"I meant why is it here? On my chair?" Sherlock still standing there, looking at the cat then John then back at the cat.

"He needs a home for a little while so I brought him here," he said.

"But this is my home," Sherlock said angrily and then immediately turned sheepish. " _Our_ home, I mean, but I'm included . . . I should have had a say. It should find itsown." He buried his face in his mug and then looked around. "Well, where am I even supposed to sit then? See, its being here is already ruining everything."

"Sherlock, there's an entire sofa. Don't be dramatic. It's only for a few days." John smiled up at him.

Sherlock moved over and sat down on the sofa. "You used to like when I was dramatic," he muttered under his breath. "You used to think I was amazing. . ."

"Sherlock, love, I still think you're amazing." John got up and sat beside him on the sofa, leaning over on his shoulder. "Incredible. Fantastic. But look how cute he is."

Sherlock looked over. "It's . . . small," he said. "And kind of . . . fluffy, I guess. These are features you consider attractive? Because I might remind you neither of them describes me."

"You're not an animal, are you?" John smiled. He kissed Sherlock's cheek. "Want to go get food and litter with me?"

"I absolutely do not," Sherlock said. "I am protesting this invasion -- I'm not going to make it more welcome here." He pushed John away but let his hand fall to John's thigh which he pinched lightly. "You and your new best friend can go on this errand all by yourselves."

"I can't take a kitten to the shop, Sherlock. You'll have to watch him."

"You want me to sit here and literally watch it? I have a life to live, John," Sherlock said. "I can't waste it watching a cat."

"He will probably sleep the whole time. Just make sure he doesn't get into anything he shouldn't," John said. He stood and stretched, rubbing Sherlock's hair and then rubbing the kitten's head before moving to get his coat. 

Sherlock didn't mind the head touch -- in fact he quite liked it -- but he didn't like that the cat got one too. He sat there stupidly staring at John. "I'm not doing anything for it . . . if it needs something, I'll just tell it to wait until you get home," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine. Pout like a big baby. I will be back shortly," he said, leaving the flat. "Love you!" he called up. 

"I'm not a big baby," Sherlock said to the empty flat. He looked over at the cat. "You're a big baby." He got up and took his mug to the kitchen but decided on another cup. He put the kettle back on and then went to the bathroom. He poured himself some more and decided to type up his notes, but as he walked over to the desk, he noticed the cat was gone from his chair. He set his cup down and wandered around the room looking for it.

"Cat," he said as he looked under the sofa. "Don't do this, please. John will blame me if you're dead and that would not be fair at all because I've done nothing to you at all." He stood up again and saw the cat balanced on the mantle. There was a second of relief and then the annoyance returned. He moved over and grabbed it, dropping it down on to the sofa. "Just stay there," he said. "John will be back soon enough with whatever you need, and you can deal directly with him from now on."

He moved over to his desk and opened his laptop. The cat followed him, jumping up and moving closer. It leaned over his tea before he snatched it away and then it walked over the keyboard.

"This is unacceptable," Sherlock said, pushing it down onto the floor again. "Go away and do something somewhere else."

The cat began weaving around Sherlock's legs, continuing to do so even when he shifted to push it away. He closed his laptop and picked up his tea, moving quickly to his chair. "This is mine," he said childishly. He held his cup in his hand and closed his eyes to concentrate. There was probably no chance the cat would go away just because he was sitting still and wishing it would, but it couldn't hurt to try. 

John, meanwhile, was rushing through the store, getting essentials for a few days and trying to get back before something happened at the flat. He wondered how Sherlock was doing. 

The kitten came close to Sherlock's chair again and meowed, a small, crying sound. Then again. And again. Sherlock kept still, just concentrating. The cat eventually jumped onto his lap. He did nothing -- as if somehow ignoring it was a successful protest. The cat put its small claws into his thigh a few times and it circled and then curled up. Sherlock leaned to the right, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

_Come home right now. The cat is ruining the flat. SH_

_Stop him, then. He's just a little thing. -JW_

_It is not my responsibility. SH_

Sherlock set his phone on his other leg. This did not disturb the cat who seemed to be asleep. For some reason, Sherlock found himself incapable of moving the thing off of him. It might have been because it was purring or it might have been because it kind of looked like the cat was smiling a little.

He picked up the phone again.

_It's holding me hostage. SH_

This time the movement woke the cat, who stretched out one paw onto Sherlock's other side.

"Go away," Sherlock whispered.

It looked up at him and yawned, its paw curling so the tiny nails poked the skin under Sherlock's trousers.

Sherlock put a hand on the cat's back and stroked it. "Your name's not Tic Tac, is it?" he said. "I don't know what it is, but I know it's not that."

_Sherlock, he's so small. Just move him if you're so fussed. -JW_

Then John grinned.

_Is he on your lap? -JW_

By now the cat had woken up properly and was trying to crawl up Sherlock's body. Somehow Sherlock seemed to have slid down awkwardly in his chair, which made the cat's ascent a little less steep. He sat back up once the cat had settled on his shoulder, purring again. "Too loud," Sherlock said but the remark went unheeded. He looked at his phone.

_None of your business. SH_

_I'm on my way home. -JW_

Sherlock lifted a hand to stroke the cat and then picked it up and sat it back on his lap, looking closely at its face. "I'm afraid the party is over," he said. "John is coming home now." He stood up and placed the cat on his chair. He tipped his cold tea into the sink and made a fresh one, taking it over to his desk, opening his laptop and starting to type his notes.


	2. John Rewards The Pouting

John took a cab home and carried the bag upstairs. He peeked in and saw Sherlock on the computer and the cat watching him from his chair. He smiled and set up the litter box in the bathroom and got the bowls with food and water ready. He made kissing sounds, and Tic Tac jumped down and over to John. John put him in the litter box so he would know where it was. "Did you have fun with Sherlock?" he asked. Tic Tac simply meowed and moved to explore the flat some more. "Sherlock? Are you all right?"

"Not really, John," Sherlock said, without looking away from his screen. "But that's fine . . . I understand I have fallen down the list of things that John Watson cares about. I won't deny it hurts a little, but I'm sure I'll recover."

John rolled his eyes and moved to his chair. "Please stop being so dramatic. It's just for a couple days," he said. 

"Do I really have to stop?" Sherlock said, glancing over quickly. "I'm kind of enjoying it."

John smiled. "Dramatic people don't get kisses," he said.

"Uh . . . that's not how I remember it," Sherlock said. "I remember the first time you kissed me and to be honest, that night I'd behaved quite dramatically. Ridiculously actually and you fell for it hook, line and sinker. So don't go making idle threats you don't plan to follow through on."

"I will follow through if you keep being mean to Tic Tac."

"Stop calling it that -- you're the one being cruel," Sherlock said. "You're treating it like a baby. It's not a baby. If you want a baby, John, get a baby. But a cat is not a baby." He took a long sip of tea. "Actually, don't call a baby that either."

"That's a good enough name," John protested.

"Tic Tac Watson? Why not just hang a 'Please Bully Me' sign around the kid's neck?" Sherlock laughed. He got up and walked over to John's chair, fussing his hair a bit and pulling stupidly on his arm. "Remember our life before you brought this creature into the flat? It used to be good . . . it used to be interesting." He stepped back and moved to the sofa. "Now you've gone boring. You just sit and stare at an animal. It's boring."

"The kid won't be Tic Tac! I meant for the cat." John got up and moved into Sherlock's lap. "I'm not boring."

Sherlock put his arms around John. "Don't call a child Tic Tac," he said again, smiling stupidly.

The cat jumped up onto Sherlock's chair again, walked around a bit and then settled itself.

"It's ruining that chair," Sherlock said.

"It's not," he said. He pulled Sherlock's attention to him by kissing his neck softly.

Sherlock closed his eyes and relaxed into John's kisses. Then he opened his eyes and saw the cat doing something strange on the chair. He pushed John off him and sat forward. "There's something wrong with it," he said in a panicked voice. "It's got its leg all weird -- there's something wrong."

John grunted and looked over. "He's grooming," he said.

Sherlock looked at the cat and then John and then the cat again. John was probably right, but his casual attitude was kind of annoying. "Okay, but what if it does get ill -- did you think about that?" he asked. "You're a human doctor, John. Cats aren't humans. I really think you've bitten off more than you can chew here. . ." He stood up and walked over to his chair, bending down to inspect the cat just in case.

"Sherlock, it's a couple days. It's going to be fine." John got up to get a snack.

"Sure, that's easy to say," Sherlock said, moving back to the sofa. "I mean I thought you were just going to move in here for a couple days and then look what happened -- you made me love you and now I never want you to leave." He looked over at John. "Is that likely to happen with this creature, do you think?"

"His owner is coming for him. We can't keep him," John said. 

Sherlock looked over at the kitten who was looking especially cute back at him. "So you say," he said as he stood back up and moved to his chair, scooping the cat up and bringing it back to the sofa. When John noticed, he said, "I don't want him ruining my chair and besides I think I might be allergic."

"You are not," John said. The kitten jumped down and went to Sherlock again, crying like before. 

Sherlock picked up the cat and plopped it onto his lap. "Are you making food for us or is it the only one who matters to you now?" he asked.

"Are you hungry? I can make a bigger snack," John said. He glanced out to see why Tic Tac had stopped crying and he grinned. 

"Yes, please," Sherlock said. "Not a lot but . . . something, I guess. You know what I like."

John cut up a second apple with peanut butter on the side and brought it to Sherlock. "Here you go."

"Just the apple, please," Sherlock said. "I don't know how you can eat that stuff." As he picked up a piece, the cat sat up and pawed at his hand. "This is mine," he said, but the cat tried to climb up him again. "It's an apple," he said. "Cats don't eat apples, humans do." He lifted the cat into one arm, holding it like a baby to keep it from grabbing at his fruit. "It's Eve, by the way," he said to John.

"What is?" John said. He couldn't stop smiling at Sherlock.

"Her name," Sherlock said matter-of-factly.

"Whose? Sherlock, what are you talking about?" John asked.

"Who else would I be talking about?" Sherlock said, picking up another piece of apple. "The cat obviously."

"I already named him Tic Tac," he said

"Well, you're wrong," Sherlock said. "Wrong first regarding the sex. It's a girl." He turned his arm to display the cat as if that made his point. "And she likes apples so her name is Eve. Logical."

John was so startled that Sherlock named him -- or rather her -- that he didn't even argue. "Okay. Right."

"Look, is that what we're going to be doing for the whole evening, arguing about this thing?" Sherlock said. "Let's not forget I solved a case today. Don't we have a traditional celebration to mark solved cases?" He glanced over and smiled cheekily. "I think it involves something in the bedroom..."

John smiled. "No one is arguing, love. I like the name you picked. Do you want to sneak off into the bedroom?"

"I'm not in the mood at the moment," Sherlock teased. "I think it's my allergies. . ." He put the cat back on his lap and then added, "Besides, I'm being held hostage again."

John laughed. "Oh, of course," he said.

"She might be willing to negotiate for my release," Sherlock said. "What precisely were you thinking of offering once we got into the bedroom?"

"Hmm. I think I will suck you off," he said.

Sherlock lifted his hands to the cat's head. "Don't be vulgar in front of Eve," he said. "She's just little, John. Have some sense of decency." He looked over at John and gave a sly smile. "And will there be any --" he changed his voice to a whisper "-- fucking?"

"Maybe," he smiled. "I don't know if I feel like it after being scolded..."

"Don't be a tease, John Watson," Sherlock said. He glanced over at the clock. "It's seven. How long do you think it'll take you to get over the scolding?"

"Hmm, three minutes," he smiled.

"Are you honestly suggesting we go to bed this early?" Sherlock said, smiling widely.

"We can come back out. We can have a quickie," he smiled.

"We don't have to go into the bedroom for a quickie," Sherlock said. He stood up and put Eve down on his chair. He moved over and sat next to John on the sofa.

"Really? Right here in front of the kitten?"

"I solved a murder case, John," Sherlock said. "Can we forget about the cat for two minutes and focus on this area, please?" He motioned towards his lap.

John started palming Sherlock softly. "Oh?"

Sherlock slid down a little. "Mmmm, that's more like it," he said softly. He leaned over and kissed John's mouth.

John kissed back, working Sherlock's zip open and moving his hand in to palm him over the cotton.

"That's good," Sherlock said softly. "You're good to me, John . . . I'm sorry I'm so difficult . . ."

John kissed his neck, fishing out Sherlock's cock. "Mmhm, you were so clever," he murmured, leaning down and licking the tip.

Sherlock moaned softly as he lifted a hand to rest on John's back. He wiggled a bit against the sofa, dropping his head against the back of the sofa. John took Sherlock into his mouth, bobbing up and down. Sherlock used his hand to pull his trousers down a little more to give John room. He then held himself at the base as he watched John's mouth on him. "It's good…" he mumbled as his breath began to catch in his throat.

John hummed around Sherlock as he moved, rubbing his thigh. Sherlock let his hips start to rock a little. He watched John for a few more minutes and then dropped his head back, closing his eyes. "I'm going to come, John," he exhaled and then he did. He lifted his head to watch it happen.

John swallowed around Sherlock, licking him clean as he came back up. "Better?"

Sherlock lifted his hand from John's back and rubbed it over his face. "Indeed," he said, pulling John towards him for a kiss. "Thank you."

John smiled. "Any time," he said.

Sherlock leaned back and took a deep breath. He saw the cat on the chair. "Eve was watching," he said as he moved to pull up his trousers.

John glanced over. "It's not like she knows what it was," he said. "Let's see if she wants to play." John got up and grabbed a rod with a mouse hanging from a string. He dragged it on the ground and she stood, pouncing and chasing after it. 

"I hope she didn't," Sherlock said, watching. "Where did you get that stick?"

"The shop," John said, laughing as she pounced and flipped around to rabbit kick the mouse. 

"She's quite violent for a small thing -- I like that," Sherlock laughed. "I wonder if she can blog -- you may be out of a job soon."

"A job maybe, but she can't do the other thing I just did on the sofa so choose your words carefully," John grinned. 

"That's true," Sherlock said. 'You're the only one in the world who can do that and I'm very grateful to have found you." He got up, ruffling John's hair as he passed. He put the kettle on. "Are we doing anything tonight or just lounging around until it's time for bed and for . . . you know."

John smiled. "I don't think we should leave the flat -- I mean, cats are pretty self-sufficient but we have a lot of things around here she shouldn't get into."

"Fine, so now we're both hostages," Sherlock said, pouring the tea. He brought both cups into the sitting room, setting them down on the small table. "We'll need to rearrange everything . . ."

"Rearrange what?" John asked. 

"The whole flat," Sherlock said, picking up his mug. "It's going to get into everything. We'll have to move all our stuff up to your old room and then just let it have everything else."

"That's a bit drastic for a couple days," John said. 

"But as you said, there are things it shouldn't get into," Sherlock said. "Perhaps your heroic gesture wasn't as well thought out as it could have been."

"Perhaps you're over thinking it," John said, trailing the mouse and smiling as he chased it. 

"Perhaps I am," Sherlock said. "Perhaps I am just hassling you unnecessarily because I find it quite fun and you look quite cute when you're flustered." A cheeky smile spread across his face. He stood up and put all the chemical bottles into a box. "There, that takes care of the obvious. I'll leave the rest to you."

John shook his head. "I'll just keep an eye on her. That's easier," he smiled. 

"Fine," Sherlock said, moving back to the sofa. "Maybe you just might want to at least consider getting a little bit flustered before bed, though, yeah? I really do like that." He reached for the remote and turned on the television.

"And what will that get me?" John asked.

"Whatever you want," Sherlock said. "You know that I am totally at your mercy in the bedroom, John Watson." He winked as he settled on a channel.


	3. More Pouting And More Rewards

"Are you going to stay on the floor all night or come up here with me?"

John glanced at Sherlock on the sofa and then the cat next to him. "Are you asking her to come up and cuddle you?" John smiled.

"Technically I was talking to you, but fine, you can bring it up here, if you must," Sherlock said.

John brought the kitten on Sherlock's lap and then curled close to him as well.

"My allergies. . ." Sherlock mumbled. He put an arm around John and rested his other hand on his leg. The kitten pawed at fingers, which he tried to ignore.

"You don't have allergies," John said, watching Sherlock twitch his fingers for the kitten to paw at. 

"I could develop them," Sherlock said. He was now moving his fingers up and down his leg so the kitten flopped around on his lap.

John smiled as he watched. "Well, why don't we worry about it then?" 

"Some doctor, you are," Sherlock said, pinching John lightly. He turned his attention to the television. "Actually, this looks quite violent . . . do you think we should turn it?" he asked.

John laughed. "And who exactly are we worried about?"

"Well, I mean, she's little and everything," Sherlock said, now tickling the cat's ears. "You've already made her watch you commit a sexual act -- all this violence might scar her for life and she's only been here a few hours."

"I promise she will be fine. Look, she's already falling asleep."

"All right," Sherlock said. "Actually, this film's boring anyway." He flicked through the channels and settled on something else. "This okay?"

John nodded. "Yeah, this is fine." He was watching Sherlock and the kitten anyway.

Sherlock watched the new film for a few minutes. He'd seen it a few times before but he tended to prefer things he'd already watched. He thought he heard a noise and turned to John. "Was that your stomach? You've not had any dinner. Do you want me to order something?"

"Yeah, will you please?" 

"What do you want?" Sherlock said, shifting the cat slightly so he could pull his phone from his pocket. "Something that'll give you plenty of energy for later," he added, raising his eyebrows up and down.

John laughed. "Pervert," he said. "Let's get pizza."

"I was never perverted until I met you," Sherlock said, dialling the number and making the order. The cat stood up and jumped onto John's lap, stretching before batting on the buttons on his shirt.

John smiled and wiggled his shirt to make the buttons move.

"I have a feeling you needn't waste any more money on toys," Sherlock said. "Eve is clearly easily amused."

"I know," John smiled. "That's typical."

They watched the rest of the film, and the pizza arrived right as the credits were rolling. "You choose something else," Sherlock said as he stood up to go get the food.

John flipped through the channels and stopped on the news. "Let's watch this for a bit."

Sherlock set the pizza box down and went into the kitchen to get plates. When he returned, Eve was sitting on the box. "John," he said. "You shouldn't have let her do that -- it's disgusting."

"Do what?" John asked innocently.

"Your cat has contaminated our food."

"No, just the box."

"Still," Sherlock said, moving the cat onto the floor. "You should have had her under control." He put a piece on a plate for John and then tore off half a piece for himself. The cat jumped up onto the sofa arm next to Sherlock. He pushed her down. "Very impolite," he said to the kitten. "You're teaching her bad habits," he said to John.

John started his piece. "You're over reacting again," he said.

"Actually Doctor Watson, for once I'm not," Sherlock said. "You have to start training them early -- if you let them get away with things, they'll learn that's okay. If you keep letting it walk all over our food, in six months, we'll be dead from toxoplasmosis. Or maybe not. I'm just saying, we don't want a poorly trained cat -- it's an invitation for disaster."

John looked over and tilted his head. "She won't be here in six months, Sherlock. Greg is getting the owner in a couple days."

"Right, still . . . don't turn her horrible," Sherlock said. He set his plate down. "I hate pizza."

"You should have said, we could have ordered something else."

"I'm not all that hungry," Sherlock said. "Besides, I ordered it for you so you'd be sweet on me." He looked over and gave John a wink.

John chuckled. "Food won't do that, you know."

"What will?" 

"Your being sweet on me," John grinned. 

"I'm always sweet on you," Sherlock said, getting up to make some tea. "I just have my own special way of showing it."

"Oh, of course," John said. He played with Eve a bit before going to his food again. 

Sherlock brought two mugs back and looked at the television. "Should we choose another film?" he asked. "I don't want to keep watching the news."

"Yeah," John said, flipping through the channels again.

Eve jumped down from the sofa and ran around the flat for a few moments, as if she was chasing something and then she flopped onto the floor, biting at her own tail.

"She's gone mad," Sherlock said. "You brought home a mad cat. Are you happy now?" Then he said, "Stop on this," motioning towards the screen which was showing an old film.

John stopped and went back to eating his meal. When he finished, he petted Eve while she settled to sleep in his lap. "She'll probably come to bed with us," he said.

"If you don't want to do it, John, we don't have to," Sherlock said. "All that was just . . . teasing, you know. We don't have to after every case . . ."

"I want to, Sherlock, of course I do. I was just saying that'll be something we have to deal with."

"Well, just don't call attention to it," Sherlock said. "Life can't stop because you made a foolish decision -- we have to live, John, and that is part of living."

"I didn't say we weren't still going to do something. You owe me at least a blow job," he teased.

"Why? Did you solve a case today?" Sherlock said, smiling. "Oh, that's right . . . that was me."

"Oh, is that how it is then? I guess I'll only touch you after cases," John said.

"Don't say horrible things like that," Sherlock said. He pushed Eve out of the way and put his legs over John's lap. "Let's go to bed now."

Eve plopped over before she righted herself, jumping back up and climbing on Sherlock's legs now. 

"See? She agrees with me," Sherlock said. He grabbed at John's hand and pressed it against his lap. "This needs attention."

"Let's go to the bedroom then," John said, picking Eve up.

"It's about time," Sherlock said, getting up from the sofa. He carried the pizza box to the table and left it there. "I need the toilet -- you figure out what to do with her while I think about what I'm going to do to you."

John brought an empty box and a couple blankets. "This will be your bed," he said, putting her inside. 

Sherlock brought in two glasses of water. He noticed the little bed and said, "John, you're so sweet it's almost impossible to tolerate." He started to unbutton his shirt and added, "Now get your clothes off, please."

"I don't want her climbing on the bed," John said. "What did you think of?"

"I don't want to say in front of the cat," Sherlock said. He moved over towards John and started to pull on his clothes.

"Whisper it in my ear," he said, smiling as he helped Sherlock removed his clothes.

Sherlock leaned in as he pushed John's jeans down. "Kissing," he whispered.

John smiled. "Ooh, the super dirty stuff," he teased.

Sherlock kissed John's ear and then his neck and then crashed into his mouth. His hands gripped John's arse and then he lowered himself down John's body, tugging off his pants. He rubbed his cheek against John's cock and then held it as he began covering it with kisses and licks.

"Bed . . . let's get in the bed," John said breathlessly.

Sherlock pushed John back onto the bed and spread his legs apart as he continued to lick and suck on him. "Hair," he mumbled as he lifted his head and smiled.

John laced his fingers in Sherlock's curls, tugging as he moaned softly. Sherlock hummed his approval. He held John at the base and used his other hand to knead John's thigh. John keened softly and squirmed to get to Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock took him inside, swallowing down a few times before stroking him and kissing his leg. He then swallowed down again.

John sighed loudly, tugging at Sherlock's hair as he stilled. "So good . . ." 

Sherlock felt himself getting more excited. He lifted his head and asked, "Like this? I will but I also want you tonight . . . "

"I want you," John said. "Just a bit more, yeah?"

"Of course," Sherlock said with a smile. He went back to giving his mouth's attention to John's cock, swirling his tongue as he dragged over the shaft and then flicking it as he sucked the tip. He used his free hand to continue to push John's legs apart and rub his balls and the space between his legs.

John shifted and moaned, tugging at Sherlock's hair until the building heat was almost too much. "Stop -- Sherlock, please. . ." he breathed. “Come up."

Sherlock let go of John and quickly scrambled up the bed, flopping to the side of him. He got out of his clothes as fast as he could and began stroking himself. "John," he moaned lightly. "Hurry."

John grabbed the lube and moved between Sherlock's legs, pouring it onto his fingers. "Just breathe, love. I'm not going to hurt you for speed," he said, slicking Sherlock's hole and pushing one finger inside. 

Sherlock slowed the stroke on himself and looked up at John. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt John push inside. "God, it's good," he moaned. "I love you, John."

"I love you, too," John murmured. He pumped his finger and then added a second one, gently stretching them apart.

Sherlock pulled his legs apart even further, letting his hips begin to rock gently with John's movement. He kept his stroke steady and firm on himself, but tried his best not to speed up his hand just yet. John moved up to a third finger as he poured a bit of lube on his cock. He pulled his fingers out, leaned over Sherlock, and pushed inside slowly. 

"God, John," Sherlock said as he sucked in his breath and felt his body tense. He exhaled slowly and let himself melt against the bed. His hand had stopped moving so he slowly started a stroke again. "Go slow," he said, letting his hips rock a little. "You feel so good . . . you make me feel so good. . . you're perfect . . ."

John started pressing kisses to his mouth, moaning as he rolled his hips back and forth in a slow rhythm. "You feel perfect," he whispered.

"John," Sherlock gasped, wrapping one arm around John's shoulder. "Keep kissing me . . " His hand mimicked the rhythm of John's hips. John complied, kissing Sherlock slow and deep as he moved just a bit faster, his hips touching Sherlock's thighs as he pressed deep.

Sherlock wrapped one leg around John as he let himself go a little, thrusting his hips up to meet John's as his hand sped up. "Please," he moaned. "You're everything to me . . . I'm so close, John…"

John moved faster and harder. "Come on, love. Show me..." 

Sherlock locked eyes with John for a second and then his eyes squeezed shut and his body tightened and he started coming between them. The words "John" and "love" and "yes" tumbled out of his mouth as his orgasm filled his whole body.

John watched for a few more thrusts before he let go and came himself, moaning loudly as he pressed deep into Sherlock

"I love you, John, I love you," Sherlock mumbled over and over as he tried to catch his breath.

"I love you too," John panted softly. He pulled out and lay more comfortably at Sherlock's side, holding him close. "You were brilliant, today. Fantastic," he smiled. And then he heard a soft cry and before he could look, Eve was on the bed, sniffing her way closer to them, climbing over their legs and moving up the bed on Sherlock's side. 

"John," Sherlock said pushing himself up. "She shouldn't be up here when . . . this business is occurring." 

"It's not occurring anymore," John smiled, watching as she climbed up on Sherlock's belly. John got up and got a wet flannel to clean him off quickly. "See? It's fine."

"You're corrupting her just like you corrupted me," Sherlock said. He pushed the cat away from him.

She swatted Sherlock's hand and kept climbing. "I didn't corrupt you," John laughed.

"Obviously you did," Sherlock said. "I used to be logical minded before I met you. Then you moved in here and I went all stupid in the head for that kind of business. Just hours ago, she was an innocent kitten and now she's seen things no cat should ever have to see." He pulled the sheet over himself dramatically.

Eve, under the blanket as well, crouched and mewled softly. 

Sherlock pushed her away again. "John, this cat thing was all your idea, and therefore it is your responsibility," he said. "Do something about her. I need to go to sleep now. I solved a case and had sex -- I can't handle being in charge of an animal as well." He dramatically turned on his side.

Eve slipped off and righted herself, walking to John. "Come on, little one." John lay down and placed her on his pillow where she curled close to his head. "Good night, crabby pants," he teased. 

"It'd better not piss in the bed overnight," Sherlock grumbled, before turning over and giving John a little smile. "Good night, John."

"She knows where her box is," John said. He pecked Sherlock's lips before closing the light to settle properly.

Sherlock took a deep breath. He was exhausted but a good exhausted and he soon fell asleep.


	4. Sherlock And The Cat Alone

John woke up with his alarm and shifted. When he looked at Sherlock, Eve was asleep on his chest. He smiled and got up to get ready.

Sherlock shifted at John's movement. "Tea . . . and then come back to bed," he mumbled.

"I'll bring tea but I work today," John said on his way to the bathroom.

Sherlock made a little grumble, started to drift back to sleep and then opened his eyes and sat up. "Are you taking the cat then?" he called. Eve clawed at his shirt to keep her footing before jumping into his lap and off the bed. 

"No I'm not," John called back.

Sherlock moved to stand up. He grabbed his dressing gown and slid it on, then rushed out to the kitchen. "Should I just put her in a box or something until you get home?" he asked.

"No, just keep an eye on her," John said, coming into the kitchen.

"I think we both know that's easier said than done," Sherlock said. "And besides this is your mess, not mine."

"It's just a few hours," John said, making some toast. "Don't experiment on her," he added sternly.

"Why would I bother?" Sherlock asked. He glanced over at the kitten. "I can't see that there's much I could learn from her."

"Sherlock, I mean it. If you experiment on her I won't have sex with you for a week," John said. He put the piece of toast in his mouth and went to get his coat. He refrained from asking for hourly report. "I'll see you later. Love you."

"That's cruel," Sherlock said. "The threat, I mean, not the end bit. The end bit's sweet. Have a good day and hopefully the cat will still be here when you get back."

John threw him a warning look before leaving for work, hurrying down the stairs and pausing at Mrs Hudson's door. He considered knocking and asking her to check up on them, but he didn't want to make it seem like he didn't trust Sherlock. And maybe she would go up on her own anyway. He left, hailing a cab since he was already running a bit late.  

Sherlock topped up his tea and took it to his desk. He glanced at the cat and then decided that if he just let it be, there was no reason it'd have to disrupt his day. He checked his email and then got to work finishing his notes from yesterday.

It wasn't long before Eve made her way over to him, weaving in and out of Sherlock's legs. He pushed her out of the way a few times, but then gave up. "You're not bothering me at all," he said aloud, as if stating it made it true.

There were no new cases in email or via the blog either. He stood up, grabbed a book and moved over to the sofa. Eve jumped up onto his lap, but he pushed her off. They did this dance a few more times. Finally, he set down his book and leaned over so he was eye-to-eye with the cat.

"I don't want you on my lap," he said. "That's not an unreasonable request." He picked her up and moved her to the other end of the sofa. She looked at him and for a second it seemed like she was smiling. When he realised he was smiling back, he made his face go neutral and said, "Lie down there. There is just fine."

Strangely she did, curling up with her head turned so she could see him. After a few moments, she closed her eyes.

Sherlock watched all this and found he was smiling again. She looked impossibly cute, so cute he considered moving into another room because he couldn't handle such cuteness. He read his book for a little while and then looked over. Eve was still sleeping and was still looking cute. He pulled his phone out and snapped a photo to send to John.

_Despite looking dead, she is not, I can assure you. SH_

John checked his phone and smiled at the photo. He didn't reply because a patient was coming in, but he knew Sherlock was all talk. When the owner came to pick up the kitten he was going to be just as upset, if not more, than John would be. 

Sherlock got up and put the kettle on and then sat down to check his email again while he waited for the water to boil. Eve sat up but he said, "I'm coming right back" and she lay down again. There was nothing new so he took his cup of tea back to the sofa and his book.

_Want me to pick up anything for dinner? -JW_

Sherlock shook awake, having fallen asleep with his head against the back of the sofa. He rubbed his neck as he checked his phone.

_Whatever you want to eat is fine with me. SH_

He sent the text and then sent another.

_No pizza. SH_

He set the phone on the table and then turned to lay flat on the sofa. He maneuvered his legs around Eve, who was still sleeping in a particularly cute way. He lifted his book to go back to his reading.

_No pizza. See you soon. -JW_

John sat at his desk to finish up some of the charts he had been pushing off before getting his coat to go home. This time he walked, taking the longer way so he could pass the Thai place on the way. 

Sherlock leaned over and picked up his phone, setting it next to him and going back to his book. He sensed movement at the other end of the sofa and moved his book ever so slightly so he could check out what was happening. Eve was waking up, stretching a little before standing. She stepped onto Sherlock's calf and then slowly moved up his leg, delicately like she was walking on a balance beam. Sherlock stared at the words on the page as she continued to come closer. Then Eve popped her head underneath the book.

"I'm reading," he told her.

She looked at him.

"Words, there are words written in this book and I'm reading them with my eyes," he said. "You can't stay there. Go back down."

She kept looking at him and then squeezed under the book and up to his chin.

"That's not acceptable," he said. He shifted her up so she was near his shoulder. "There, stay there," he said. "Then you can look at the words as well. If you want."

There was a bit of a wait at the Thai place and John considered leaving to get something else, but then the man at the counter shouted Sherlock's name, making John look. He grinned and lifted a bag for John. "The usual," he said. People glared as John walked up to get it. "For Sherlock, anything. Write that in the blog," he said, motioning to the long line. John paid and walked out, shaking his head. He made a mental note to brag to Sherlock when he got home about that. 

Eve kept still for a solid minute before moving back to Sherlock's chest. He set the book down. "You've been so good -- why annoy me now when John'll be home soon?" he asked her, stroking her head a few times. "You should be annoying him -- he's the one who brought you here." She settled onto his chest as he continued to pet her. "Save the cuteness for me though -- I won't tell anyone -- but be sure to do the annoying things to him." He smiled a little and then closed his eyes, listening to the calming sound of her purr.

John let himself in and walked up to the flat. He was about to call out when he noticed Sherlock was asleep, asleep with Eve on his chest. He grinned. He slowly pulled out his phone and snapped a photo, then moved a little closer and snapped another one. Then he quietly went to take off his coat and serve himself a plate. He moved to his chair and watched them sleeping while he ate.

Sherlock rolled over a little and the cat let out an annoyed meow as it fell between him and the sofa back. Sherlock opened his eyes and mumbled, "You muppet," to her before rolling back onto his back. That was when he noticed John sitting there staring at him. He sat up and asked "What's wrong?" before realising nothing was wrong at all. "Is there for food for me?"

"Of course there is," John grinned. "Does Eve cuddle as well as I do?" he asked. 

"What? No . . . I don't know," Sherlock said, glancing at the kitten and then standing to move to the kitchen. "Stop picking on me. I didn't experiment on her and I didn't put her out on the street. You should be thanking me, not teasing me." He scooped some food into a bowl and came back to the sofa.

John chuckled. He got up and moved Eve onto his lap so he could sit beside Sherlock. "How was your day?"

"We were fine -- everything was fine," Sherlock said. "Why? Is something wrong with her? Did I do something wrong to her?"

"No! Sherlock, I was just asking, like I always ask about your day," he said. "Relax."

"I'm relaxed . . . obviously," Sherlock said. "I was working most of the day. I just lay down for a moment." He saw his book. "Well, I was reading for a bit as well." He took a bite of food. "How was your day?"

"Busy," John said. "I had a lot of paperwork to finish so it was boring."

"Speaking of that, well, not really but are you going to put yesterday's case up on the blog?" Sherlock asked. "We need more work and something usually comes up when you post a new one."

"Yeah, I will. I have to get all of the notes organised. It might be a couple days," he said.

"Why? What's more important than that?" Sherlock asked.

"I just told you I have to get everything organised. Besides, the case isn't completely over until Eve gets picked up."

Sherlock glanced down at the cat. He put his hand on the sofa cushion and twiddled his fingers. "Why haven't they come yet? Maybe they're abandoning her. Did you think of that? Mrs Hudson hates cats -- pets aren't allowed here, I'm sure it's in the lease," he said.

John looked at them together. "She didn't want a full chemical lab either. People adjust."

Eve watched Sherlock's fingers, jumping down and moving over to look more closely. He pulled his hand back and she jumped up next to him. He stroked her softly. "She's getting too comfortable here, I think," he added.

"If no one comes, we'll just have to keep her."

"Absolutely not," Sherlock said. "I tolerated this business for one day but not for life. Cats live for thirty years, you know. I'm not even entirely sure I want you around that long -- I certainly don't want this thing here that long. You'll have to find another place for it."

John looked away and mixed his food. "I really hope you were joking just now," he said quietly.

"Of course, I was, John," Sherlock said. "You know there's no way you're ever getting away from me . . . but I still think you need to find somewhere else for the cat, just in case. No one involved in all that business yesterday was very responsible." He tickled the cat's ears. "She deserves a good home."

"Hmm, well, she seems to like you and I think she'll be sad."

"Animals don't feel sad, John," Sherlock said. "Don't anthropomorphise. Besides she and I don't particularly like each other -- you're letting your do-good spirit confuse everything." Eve crawled up onto his lap, sitting proudly on his knee as she stared over at John.

"You like Sherlock, don't you? Don't worry, he likes you a lot too," John said.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I do not. I only like you, John, you know that," he said. He looked over at him. "In fact, I really, really like you." He gave him a wink.

"He's lying. He loves you," John told Eve.

Sherlock turned and looked at the cat. "No, I don't. I love John Watson. No one else," he said. "Ever."


	5. Sherlock And John Alone

Sherlock turned back to John. "If you're not sorting on the blog tonight, what are your plans? Do we have to stay trapped in the flat all night?"

"We can go out, if you like. We can leave Eve with Mrs. Hudson."

"Hmm," Sherlock said. "Do you see, John? She's controls our lives -- she's been in this flat one day and she has complete control over us. We can't do anything without having to deal with her first. It's ridiculous. I liked it better when all you cared about was me." He heard the words coming out of his mouth -- he pulled a face to make John think he was joking, even though he also kind of meant it.

"Sherlock, of course I care more about you. It's different. I just don't want her to get hurt, you know?"

"Come over and give me some attention for a minute then," Sherlock said. He put Eve down on the floor. "Please .. ."

John leaned over and kissed him, bringing a hand up into his hair.

"See, that wasn't so difficult, was it?" Sherlock asked. "Just because I'm not tiny and fluffy doesn't mean I'm not worthy of your affection."

"You're always first in line for my affection," John smiled.

"So you say," Sherlock said, giving him a smile back. He stood up and stretched. "I feel disgusting -- I need some fresh air. Why don't we go get a drink or something?"

"Really?" John asked, surprised. Sherlock never wanted to go out with crowds and people. "Okay, yeah."

"I just meant for something different," Sherlock said. "Like you used to do, just something different, I guess. We don't have to if you'd rather not."

"I want to," John said, smiling. "A spontaneous date night, I like it."

Sherlock was secretly pleased that John liked the idea, but he didn't let on. "I need to shower," he said. "I don't feel very presentable." 

"I should as well," John said. "You go first."

Sherlock disappeared into the bathroom, turning on a hot shower and stepping in. He thought about what he'd proposed and why he'd proposed it. He didn't particularly like going to bars -- he never had -- but he knew John liked to every once in a while, and giving John what he wanted was important to Sherlock. It had taken a long time for him to admit it to himself, but it was true. He'd never really said anything to John; there was a part of him that wanted to, but then he worried that perhaps that was a bad idea. Talking about feelings was never his strong point. He worried that pointing out the few sacrifices he made would highlight all the other times he was nothing but selfish, and besides what he really wanted was for this to be a normal relationship. In a normal relationship, a person didn't deserve a gold star just because they did something kind. He didn't want praising; he just wanted John to be happy because making John happy was the one thing that made Sherlock happy. 

Once he was clean, he stepped out of the shower, wrapped the towel around his waist and headed into the bedroom to get dressed. "Your turn," he called to John.

John, who was playing with Eve and the stick again, put it down and patted her bottom. "Go find Sherlock now. Go on," he said quietly. He watched her walk off as he went into the bathroom for his own shower. He was quick, stepping out and drying off before padding to their room to change for the night. "What kind of pub?" he asked. "Jeans and regular shirt or something more upscale?"

"Dancing," Sherlock said, as he finished buttoning his cuffs. He sat down on the bed to put on his shoes.

John flashed Sherlock a surprised smile as he picked out dark jeans and a fitted t-shirt. "Dancing, huh? That's fun."

"Well, I'm not promising fun," Sherlock said, standing up and running his hand through his hair. "Just dancing."

John smiled as he fussed his own hair, moving over to kiss him. "Fun," he confirmed.

Sherlock turned to leave and then turned back. "And we're just supposed to leave her?" he asked, motioning towards the kitten.

"No, only because she doesn't know the flat yet. I don't want her getting into anything. I'll take her down to Mrs Hudson's for now."

"All right," Sherlock said. "But be prepared for her to forbid us from keeping her."

"We'll see," John said, picking up the kitten and a couple toys. He walked down and knocked on Mrs Hudson's door. When she answered he explained the situation, but John doubted she heard anything because she was watching and talking to Eve.

Sherlock said nothing as they negotiated the trade-off. Then they headed out the door. Sherlock reached over to hold John's hand. John laced their fingers. He was going to tease Sherlock about how much Mrs. Hudson took to Eve, but he didn't. This night was about them.

They walked a little bit and then Sherlock grabbed a taxi which dropped them off in front of the bar. There wasn't a queue, but when they got inside it was quite crowded. Sherlock led the way to the bar and got them each a drink. He couldn't see a place to sit, but they moved out of the way to a place with a little more space. 

"It's loud," Sherlock said.

John nodded, watching people dancing. "It's been a while," he said.

"I haven't forgotten how," Sherlock said. "If you want to . . . when we've finished our drinks, I mean." He took a sip and looked around.

John nodded. "I do want to," he smiled. "I always want to gyrate against you."

"Don't be disgusting," Sherlock said, stepping a little closer to him. "Your drink all right?"

John nodded, taking a sip. "I mean it. Pressed close, breathing heavily . . ."

"John . . ." Sherlock said, pushing him arm lightly even as he stepped even closer. "I can't dance to this song anyway. Maybe the next one will be better."

They stood for the next two songs as they finished their drinks. When a slower song came on, Sherlock set down his empty glass and held out a hand to John who took it and followed him to the dance floor. John stood, moving with the music.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's waist and began to sway slowly. He dipped his head and put a soft kiss on John's ear. "This is good," he said softly. "We can do this more if you want."

John smiled softly. "Yeah, we can," he agreed.

Sherlock moved his hand to grip one of John's hips. "You're so sexy," he whispered, letting his lips brush John's ear. He glanced around the bar. He noticed a man in the corner looking at them. His first thought was suspicion -- was this someone working for Moriarty? Then he realised that was a bit ridiculous. That feeling, though, was replaced with a different suspicion. Jealousy. Sherlock pulled John a little closer, keeping him from turning his head toward the man. John looked up and smiled at Sherlock, kissing his mouth softly. Sherlock returned the kiss, as one of his hands moved up John's back. When he opened his eyes again, he looked over at the man -- he wished he hadn't, because he knew the look was motivated purely by jealousy. The man had walked away, no longer looking at John but at someone else instead. Sherlock felt a mix of shame and relief. The song changed to one with a faster tempo, but Sherlock stayed, holding John close.

John looked over and tilted his head. "Did you see something?"

"No," Sherlock said. "I can't see anyone but you." He looked at John's face and smiled.

"I want to dance a fast song with you, too."

"Whatever you want," Sherlock said. He kept his body near to John's and waited to see how John was going to move.

"Like this," John said, rolling his hips against Sherlock's in time with the beat.

Sherlock liked the look of John's movements, even if he'd have preferred to be doing this kind of thing in the privacy of the flat. He tried to move in a similar way. He held John tight.

John tugged Sherlock's forehead to his own. "Just you and me," he whispered

"Always," Sherlock said, smiling a little. John understood him -- John understood Sherlock and he still loved him, sometimes it still shocked him. He leaned in and gave John a soft kiss. Maybe it was the whiskey, but he began to relax a little. He let his body go, trying to match John's movements. He leaned in a little and whispered, "I love you."

"I love you," John said back, his lips pressed to Sherlock's ear.

"When we go home . . . can we go straight to bed?" Sherlock asked.

John nodded. "I was thinking the same thing."

"Can we go home soon . . . now?" Sherlock asked, dropping his head to put a soft kiss on his neck.

John shivered and nodded. "Let's go now."

Sherlock smiled and pulled John by the hand towards the door. He grabbed them a taxi and held the door for John to get in. John climbed in and scooted over so Sherlock could come in the same side.

Sherlock slid in, gave their address and then pressed up against John's side. He dropped one hand to John's thigh and moved his face close. "Kiss," he whispered.

John turned his head and kissed Sherlock hard.

"Mmm," Sherlock hummed and then smiled cheekily. His hand moved up John's thigh. "You wanted to have fun . . . did you?' he asked.

John nodded. "I had a good time dancing with you."

"I did my best," Sherlock said. "I just want you to be happy."

"I'm happy. You make me happy," John said.

Sherlock glanced at John's face in the shadows of the light from the street. It was telling the truth. "Good," he said, shifting away slightly but keeping a grip on John's leg. They rode quietly home and then Sherlock paid the driver before letting them in. "We should take the cat upstairs," he said as he shut the door. 

John nodded. "Do you want to get her? I'll go make tea."

"Fine, even though she's your responsibility," Sherlock grumbled, heading to Mrs Hudson's.

"I never saw you as a kitten person," she said as she answered the door to let him in. "She's a real sweetie."

"I'm not," he said. "It's John's doing."

"Did you have a nice date tonight?" she asked, gathering the cat's things together.

"It wasn't a date," he said. "But yes is the answer." He began to smile but then decided not to.

"I saw that," she said. "But I'm not going to judge you. I know you, Sherlock Holmes, I know how you are. I'm so happy you two boys found each other -- especially for you. I'm glad you found someone who loves you warts and all."

"I don't have warts," he said, deliberately missing her point.

She smiled. "It doesn't matter, does it? You can keep your smiles hidden from me, but I know they're there." She handed him the bag and then the kitten. "Anytime you need me to babysit Fluffy, I'll be happy to help."

"Who is Fluffy?" he asked stupidly. "Do not call this cat Fluffy."

"Don't be such a grump!" she said, pushing him towards the door.

"Her name is Eve," he said as he turned and went back up to the flat.

He set the cat down on the sofa and patted her head. He went into the kitchen and said, "I'm back. With the cat. Who is in there." He motioned towards the other room and then picked up his mug.

John looked out and smiled as he saw her jump down and climb into Sherlock's chair. He handed Sherlock a mug. "Was she well behaved?" he asked, unable to help laughing softly. 

"I have no idea -- she's your cat, not mine," Sherlock said. He took a sip of tea. "Maybe Mrs Hudson washed her or something, she's seem fluffier somehow."

"You don't wash cats," John said. "She might have been brushed."

"Whatever," Sherlock said. "I think Mrs Hudson tried to make her look cuter or something."

"So what if she did?" John grinned. 

"Well . . . she's already cute enough, isn't she?" Sherlock said. He moved over closer to John. "Besides, I don't want to talk about her. I want to talk about you and how I'd like you to kiss me when we get in bed."

"Hmm, you don't have other plans for that bed?" John asked, leaning up to kiss Sherlock now.

"I do," Sherlock said. "But I want a lot of kissing from you at first, please. And then I can take it from there. . . " He raised his eyebrows and winked. Eve got down from the chair and moved over towards them. "Go away," Sherlock said. "This isn't about you."

John petted her with his socked foot while he leaned up to kiss Sherlock again. 

"John," Sherlock whined. "Stop giving her attention!"

"Then distract me better," John teased. 

Sherlock gave John a long, messy kiss. "Don't ever pay attention to anyone but me," he said stupidly.

John slid his hands up to Sherlock's cheeks. "Let's go to bed, love."

"Thank you, please," Sherlock said, smiling. He pulled on John's arm, leading him into the bedroom.


	6. The Cat Demands Attention

"Actually I don't want to taste whiskey in my mouth in the morning," Sherlock said as he turned and went into the bathroom.

John watched him walk off, waiting for his turn. He pulled Eve onto his lap and scratched behind her ear, smiling as she purred.

When Sherlock returned he saw John fussing the cat. "What did I just say?" he said, dramatically. "That counts as attention, John!"

John stood and dumped the kitten into Sherlock's arm, kissing his cheek as he went to brush his own teeth. "I love you," called to Sherlock.

"Are you talking to me or to her?" Sherlock pouted. He dropped the kitten onto the bed and then climbed underneath the covers. She tried to crawl up on top of him, but he shifted to push her away. "Your cuteness won't work on me," he grumbled.

John came back into the room and stripped to his pants, climbing into the bed. Eve was trying to climb on Sherlock again, and John picked her up and put her on the ground. "Off to bed with you," he said. She peered at him, sitting down next to the bed. John shrugged and turned to Sherlock, touching his cheek. 

Sherlock turned towards John and looked closely at him. "I'm sorry if I don't always smile when I should," he said, leaning in and giving him a soft kiss. 

John tilted his head. "I don't understand what you mean," he said, rubbing Sherlock's cheek with his thumb.

"I don't know what I mean," Sherlock mumbled. He rolled on to his back, still keeping close to John. "I mean, you like the cat because she's cute and sweet and . . . fluffy and I'm not like that and I know things are good right now -- I just wish you could know just how much you mean to me."

"Sherlock . . .you have to know that's different. I don't love anyone, anything, the way I love you."

Sherlock looked over. He knew John was telling the truth, but he still asked, "Truly?"

"Truly," he smiled.

Sherlock smiled back. He rolled away, turning his back to John. "Maybe you should show me . . ." he said softly.

John leaned in and kissed the back of his neck. "I thought you had plans," he smiled.

"This is part of the plan," Sherlock said. "Put your arm around me."

John scooted closer and put his arm around Sherlock.

Sherlock took John's hand in his, lifting it first to rub across his chest and then dragging it down his body. He wrapped both their hands around his own cock and began to slowly stroke it. "Press against me," he whispered.

John pressed very close, flush against him.

"Kiss my neck," Sherlock said as he felt his cock beginning to harden in their hands.

John pressed kisses up and down Sherlock's neck, licking and biting softly.

Sherlock gripped John's hand a little tighter but kept the stroke slow and firm. He lay there, just feeling good, concentrating on all the places John was touching him. After a few moments, he leaned forward and pulled the lube from the bedside drawer. He flipped the cap and poured some over himself, going back to hand over hand in a slightly quicker stroke. "Fuck," he mumbled at how good it felt.

John was rolling his own hips against Sherlock for friction, their hands moving together as he kept kissing.

Sherlock relaxed into all the movement happening on the bed. Then he picked up the lube bottle and put it in John's hand. "Open me," he said, going back to stroking himself as he waited.

John shifted back so he could work better, slowly opening Sherlock as his own cock got harder. 

Sherlock pushed back against John's finger. "Yes," he mumbled. "You're . . . so good to me. .." His body began to rock as John moved in and out and as his hand on himself mimicked the rhythm. "Please. . . I need you to . . ." he said softly, his breath catching in his throat.

John moved even closer again and carefully pushed into Sherlock, moaning between his shoulder blades.

"Fuck," Sherlock called loudly, turning his head slightly to press against the pillow. "John, yes. . . I'm yours . . . " His hand moved a bit faster on himself as he tried to adjust his body's movements. "Kiss my neck again . . . leave a mark . . ."

John leaned in and kissed his neck, sucking the skin hard as they moved together.

Sherlock moaned lightly. He dropped his hand and stilled his body, before slowly moving away and turning round. He pushed John onto his back and then straddled him. He slowly lowered himself onto John and then immediately began to roll his hips as he dropped his hands to either side of John's shoulders, leaning down to kiss him.

John kissed him back hard, lifting up into his body.

Sherlock kept kissing John, shifting his weight so he could free one hand to stroke himself. "I love this and I love you," he mumbled.

"I love you too," John said breathlessly, holding his hips tightly.

"Only you," Sherlock moaned as he moved harder against John's body. "And only me, right? Tell me. Promise."

"Only us," he nodded. "I promise." 

Sherlock pushed himself up, grabbing John's hand and moving to his cock. "Make me come first," he said. "So you can watch what you do to me."

John wrapped his fingers around Sherlock's cock, moving his eyes all the way up Sherlock's body to meet Sherlock's eyes. John started stroking, watching his face.

Sherlock closed his eyes and let every pleasurable sensation fill his whole body, moving his hips in the rhythm of John's hand. He snapped open his eyes and looked down at John. "I'm going to come," he said and then he did, his muscles tightening as he spilled over John's hand. Although his breath and his brain were ragged, he did his best to continue to keep his body moving.

John watched him the whole time, gasping and moaning softly. "Sherlock . . . can I?"

Sherlock nodded as he leaned on his hands again, kissing John's mouth hard before biting his bottom lip. "Come," he said.

John closed his eyes and let go, gripping Sherlock's hips and pushing up into him as he came.

Sherlock dropped down over John. "You exhaust me in the best ways, John Watson," he said softly.

John hummed and kissed Sherlock's temple over and over.

Once Sherlock had caught his breath properly, he slid to John's side. "That was good," he mumbled and as he did, Eve jumped from the floor on to his chest. He lifted himself up a little in surprise and then pushed her to the side as he tried to pull the sheet up. "I don't think she should be up here," he said, as he lay back down.

John helped the kitten on his own chest as he smiled at Sherlock. "She doesn't want to be alone either."

"But there are . . . fluids all over," Sherlock said, turning his head slightly in a refusal to acknowledge the cat's cuteness. "Wait, what?" he asked. He swallowed and then spoke more softly. "That's not why you're here, is it? . . . Just because you don't want to be alone?"

John shook his head. "I'm here because I love you very much," he said. "We're together. She wants to be as well."

"But she's not part of our family," Sherlock muttered. Then he turned over and looked at John. "Is that all right? I guess that's what it feels like for me . . . us, I mean."

John smiled and kissed him. "It's okay. She will be home soon and it'll just be us again."

Sherlock reached over and tickled behind the kitten's ears. "But then you'll be sad and bored of it just being me," he said. "Because I'm not fluffy like her."

"You do purr sometimes," John teased.

Sherlock shook his head. "Maybe you should call Lestrade tomorrow," he said. "The longer she stays here, the more attached you'll get." He was now moving his finger over John's chest, encouraging Eve to chase it.

"I'll call tomorrow," he said, watching Eve pat at Sherlock's fingers.

"Should we sleep now?" Sherlock asked.

John nodded, shifting carefully. "I love you, Sherlock."

"Mmhmm," Sherlock mumbled. He moved a little away, sliding his hand under his pillow as he closed his eyes.

"You don't want to cuddle with me?" John asked, rubbing Sherlock's back.

"We just had sex, John," Sherlock said drowsily. "You can't use my body for pleasure all the time, you know -- sometimes it needs to rest." He turned his head toward John and made a sleepy smile.

John looked at Eve as she circled and settled on his chest. "If you say so," he said, petting her softly.

Sherlock heard John's words and then drifted into a sleep. Since sex had become a more regular occurrence in his life, so had sleep. His body had begun to crave both in ways it had rarely done before John. He was soon deep into a dream. John and he were on a train and then they were walking through a small woods. And then suddenly Sherlock was on the forest floor, holding his cheek as if it'd been cut, but John was nowhere to be found. Sherlock was hurt and John wasn't there to help him. The sleeping Sherlock lifted his hand to his face and he felt another slash at his skin. His eyes opened, suddenly wide awake, and he saw the cat sitting a few inches away from him, staring stupidly. He pushed her away and her paw came up, her small but sharp claws catching the skin of his palm just so. "Fuck, that stings," he said, sitting himself up in bed. The cat tried to start the game again, but she'd definitely picked the wrong opponent. "John, get up," he said, pushing on John's shoulder. "Your fucking cat is attacking me." 

John grunted as he was shaken awake. "What?" he mumbled, trying to wake up his brain. He blinked slowly, trying to focus. 

"John, I told you this was a bad idea," Sherlock said as he rubbed his face and tried to get his bearings. He lowered his voice. "It woke me up by scratching my face. I don't think it should sleep up here."

John shifted to sit up a bit. "Sherlock, she won't stay down even if I put her down there. She doesn't know any better. We just have to get through tonight and then we'll call Greg and figure it out."

Sherlock humphed a little and lay back down. He turned away and took a deep breath to try to relax. "I'm sorry I shouted at you," he said quietly. "But it did hurt."

John moved closer to Sherlock. "I'm sorry this is causing you so much grief. She'll be gone soon, okay?"

"Don't say I'm sorry when I'm trying to say I'm sorry," Sherlock said, reaching round and giving whatever part of John's body he could reach a little squeeze. "I hope she leaves me alone for the rest of the night."

John smiled softly. He shifted so Eve was on the bed and John was a barrier between them. "There."

"Good night again," Sherlock said. He wanted to make sure things felt okay before either of them went to sleep.

"Good night," John said. He tossed his hand behind him and found Sherlock's as he closed his eyes again.

Sherlock tried to let himself go back to sleep, but in all honesty, he couldn't really totally relax as much as he had the first time he'd gone to sleep. He didn't stay awake, but he knew his sleep definitely wasn't as deep or restful as it should have been. However, at least the cat left him alone.


	7. The Cat Issue Is Resolved

When John's alarm went off, he got up and took Eve with him so Sherlock could keep sleeping. He got ready and had her on his shoulder as he made breakfast and tea.

Sherlock slowly woke and rolled over, noticing John's side was empty. He got up, slipping his dressing gown around him, and moved into the kitchen. He did his best to ignore Eve, only muttering under his breath as he reached for a mug.

"I tried not to wake you," John said.

"Did you talk to her about her behaviour?" Sherlock said. "I don't think you should be fussing over her -- she has to learn her lesson."

"Yes, I gave her a proper scolding," John teased. 

"I don't think you did, John," Sherlock said, moving over to his desk. "You always scold me when I do something dreadful -- she should get the same treatment."

"She's an animal that doesn't know better. You're a grown man," John laughed.

"I am not -- take that back," Sherlock said, smiling. "I just thought being fair was important to you. I have never slashed a person's face . . ," he motioned towards the scratch on his cheek, ". . . and yet I get scolded. This flat used to be about fairness." He looked over and realised he wished John would stay home today just to be with him. But that was quite a childish wish and, as John had just reminded him, Sherlock was (technically) a grown man, so he didn't say anything.

John put Eve down on the sofa and patted Sherlock's hair. "I love you. I'll see you later," he smiled.

"Fine," Sherlock grumbled. "I'll sort her out while you're gone."

"Don't hurt her," John warned as he left.

"I wouldn't," Sherlock said defensively. "Just because I'm trying to be responsible doesn't mean I'd be cruel."

"I love you," he called again. He took a cab so he wouldn't be late.

Sherlock checked his email but didn't find much of any interest. He needed something to do today -- otherwise, he'd be tempted to focus on the cat's presence and how it was slowly destroying everything that mattered to him.

While John was on break, Greg called and said he'd spoken to the owner but she didn't want the kitten anymore. She would need to go to the RSPCA. John wondered what he would tell Sherlock. He almost called to arrange a drop off, but decided to wait until he got home to see what Sherlock would say.

It hadn't taken long for Sherlock to move over to the sofa and begin fussing about with the cat. He gave her quite a long lecture about respecting people's privacy, both during sexual and sleep activity. Then he discussed other rules of the flat -- things like staying away from his belongings, not interrupting his silences, and no nagging. He picked up the cat and set her on his lap. He liked the sound and feel of her purring. "What will happen when you have to leave?" he said softly. "John's heart will be broken."

On his way home, John picked up some flowers for Sherlock, hoping his mood might be lifted enough to think about this more clearly. Then he looped around to pick up dinner as well.

Sherlock had spent the remainder of the day playing with the kitten. He was pretty sure he'd taught her a few tricks and then they cuddled on the sofa for a while. He checked his email a few times, but nothing had come through. He'd thought a lot about what would happen when Lestrade called to come to take her away. He needed to come up with a plan.

John came home and called for Sherlock, putting dinner on the table but holding the flowers out for Sherlock to take.

Sherlock smiled, but then changed his face to one of anger. "So this is your apology?" he said, taking the flowers.

"No. It's just a present," John said, a little confused.

"Don't smile at me, John Watson," Sherlock said sternly. "I suppose you knew this would happen from the beginning then?"

"Knew what would happen?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Lestrade called," he said, as if that explained everything.

"He did?" John asked, surprised he called the both of them. Greg hadn't mentioned that. 

"He did," Sherlock said. "We've got to keep the cat, it appears."

John raised his brows. "We've got to?" 

"He said we had to . . . she's evidence," Sherlock said quickly. "I have a feeling you knew this would happen." He pointed to the scratch on his face. "You enjoy this then?"

"Evidence," John repeated, trying not to smile. "I suppose I should call the shelter to tell them not to come get her yet," he said vaguely.

"Lestrade has forbidden us from taking her away," Sherlock said. "So you've got your way . . . I supposed you're happy with yourself?"

John laughed out loud now. "You love her, you goof! Just admit it!"

"That's an outrageous claim!" Sherlock said. "Take it back!"

"I won't! Greg called me," he said, still grinning. "Admit you love her!"

Sherlock glanced at the cat. "I will never admit that," he said, accidentally smiling over at her.

John laughed happily and hugged Sherlock. "We can keep her."

Sherlock stayed stiff. "But you won't love her more than you love me?"

"I couldn't love anything more than I love you," he said. Sherlock lifted his arms to hold John. "Say you love her, too," John said. 

Sherlock looked over at the cat. "She's all right, I guess," he mumbled and then put a soft kiss on John's neck. He watched Eve on the sofa. All three of them were smiling.


End file.
